


To be alone with you

by BarricadeKitten (Dominatrix)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Hurt!Eames, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 10:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11206110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/BarricadeKitten
Summary: Eames is severely hurt and in danger of dropping into Limbo.Arthur holds him, praying for the kick to come before Eames dies.





	1. Breaking down

**Author's Note:**

> All the Angst!

It was supposed to be a fairly safe job. (Which is a ridiculous thing to say when in dreamshare and there are always some people after you, but still. That’s how they measured things.) It could have been easy: Infiltrate the mark’s mind, extract their secret, get out again, cash in the reward.

Only it didn’t quite go as planned.

Arthur had moaned about the inexperience of the chemist from the beginning, bending Eames’ ear about her all the time. The point man and forger had reached a strange sort of…companionship after achieving Inception, working together more often and trying to get along. Of course Arthur’s perfectionism didn’t quite fit with Eames’ laissez-faire approach, but they made an effort.

_“Don’t be too harsh on our lovely Solveig, darling. She’s doing the best she can. Don’t you remember when you were a wee little point man, desperate to learn?”_

Arthur had known he was right about Solveig, that it all would go to hell, but he didn’t quite anticipate just how bad it was going to be.

 

They were supposed to extract a theory out of a world-class historian, her scientific nemesis the one who paid them. It was supposed to be simple: The historian’s subconscious was about as dangerous as a meadow filled with bunnies and lambs. Eames would forge the mark’s daughter who would introduce her mother to their extractor, pretending he was her favourite professor from the university where she studied, leaving the mark to tell him all about her new scientific findings…Easy.

Only then Solveig’s somnacin mixture started to break apart, dropping them two levels deeper than they should have been, with forty minutes of dream time left. Arthur still wasn’t too nervous; he had worked through worse catastrophes during jobs, this should be a nasty detail at most.

Eames had apparently finished his forgery and was now back in his own skin, blending into the crowd seamlessly where Arthur lost sight of him. He wasn’t too worried, the forger always managed on his own. For now, the only thing to do was wait for Carlisle to extract the information and wait for the kick.

Arthur had barely finished the thought when the mark’s projections suddenly went mental and started attacking them.

 

Instantly, Arthur broke into a sprint to get as much space between himself and the crowd. Three levels deep into a dream forced you to have limbo in the back of your mind; being killed here would most certainly mean dropping down. And Arthur didn’t trust himself to get back up as easily as Dom and Saito had a few years ago. He’d also need someone to actually come and get him, and the only one he trusted enough to do that would be…

“Eames.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, looking back. Biting his lip, he considered the rationality of searching for the forger, but even while he told himself that Eames was a grown man who could take care of himself, his feet moved into the direction that he had come from.

The maze was brilliant as always, Ariadne had done a wonderful job with that, but right now Arthur cursed her for all the tiny alleys and dead ends. He felt his heart pounding, heard the dull thuds of his feet on the ground, a low groan, the soft breeze…Wait.

Arthur stopped instantly and turned around, peeking into a small, dim-lit street, where the groan had come from. He couldn’t afford to dream up a gun or something else, the projections would only get more ruthless, but he had a sick feeling in his stomach that told him that this nearly lifeless bundle in the near-dark wasn’t out to hurt him. Slowly, he approached, wishing for more light.

He was only a few feet away when the bundle on the floor shifted with another groan and caught the light in a different way so that parts of a face were visible. Eames. Arthur was by his side in a flash.

“Eames. Eames, what happened?” he asked, pushing away the forger’s hair from his eyes. The Brit’s gaze was distant and unfocused, but he smiled at the sound of Arthur’s voice, crooked teeth coated in blood.

“Darling. I knew you’d come for me. I thought you’d…” He broke off, leaning forward and coughing, all while clutching his side. Arthur pried away Eames’ hand and took a sharp breath.

“Eames…”

“It’s not pretty, I know. A sword got to me, like it’s the Middle Ages all over again.” He chuckled, but his face contorted in pain when it caused too much movement.

“You’re dying” Arthur whispered, pressing down on the bleeding wound helplessly. He wasn’t quite sure how much time they had left, but he feared Eames might not survive until the kick.

“Always so…positive, pet” Eames wheezed. It was obvious that breathing got harder. Arthur pulled him into an upright position, holding him against his own kneeling body in an awkward kind of embrace.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re…you’re going to be alright.”

Eames laughed again, clutching the wound again. Arthur leaned back to take off his jacket and press it against the bloody mess, desperate to do anything that might help.

“You’re a terrible liar, has anybody ever told you that?”

Arthur smiled shakily, his hands carding through Eames’ hair. “You have, and you know it. Maybe I could dream up a first-aid kit, some needle and thread, anything, just…”

“It would only draw the projections to you. And you know how much I hate needles.”

Arthur snorted mirthlessly. “You have the wrong job, then.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. If I had another job, I wouldn’t have met you.” The forger said it with his trademark expression of a flirty smirk and a risen eyebrow, but the effect was dimmed due to all the blood and the sadness in Eames’ eyes. He looked like he was serious, like he really…

 

“Eames, I…” Arthur started, but the Brit pushed a single finger against his lips before he moved his hands to cup Arthur’s jaw.

“Shh, darling. Let me have this, just one time.”

“Alright” Arthur whispered without really knowing what he had agreed to, pulling Eames closer against his body and burying his face at the forger’s neck. “Alright. Just stay with me. Stay right here.”

“I’m doing my best, but I really don’t think I can” Eames replied roughly. His breathing had gone from heavy to straining, he coughed up blood regularly and when Arthur turned to look at him again, his skin was ashy and pale.

“Don’t leave” Arthur pleaded, not caring about his pride, his reputation or any other stupid things that had never mattered at all. “Don’t leave me.”

Eames had just opened his mouth to reply when his eyes suddenly fell half-closed and his breathing stopped.

 

This is when the music started, signalling the kick.


	2. The Aftermath

Arthur woke up with a gasp, ready to throw himself at Solveig and scream at her until his lungs gave out. He pulled out his needle and sat up to do just that when his eyes met somebody else’s and the whole world stopped.

_Eames._

“Everybody leave except Eames” he barked, rolling down his sleeves and pulling on his jacket in a smooth movement. His hands were still shaking, but he clenched them into fists so it wouldn’t show.

Ariadne frowned at him. “Arthur, we still need to…”

“Everybody. Get the mark out of here and stay away.”

Now it was Carlisle’s turn to speak up, just as confused. “But where…”

“I don’t care where you put her. You can throw her in a ditch for all I care. This job is a shit show anyway. Did you at least get her information?”

Carlisle nodded, his eyes wide. “I did.”

Arthur made a shooing motion with his hands. “Well then it’s all good. Eames and I will pack up and cover our tracks. Leave. Now.”

Solveig, who had stayed quiet so far, made a cautious step towards the point man.

“Arthur, I’m really sorry, I…”

Arthur shut her down instantly when he approached her quickly, only stopping when Ariadne placed a warning hand on his chest, slowly shaking her head. “Leave as long as I let you” he hissed, and watched Solveig scurry away.

Carlisle and Ariadne followed with an unconscious mark between them, and the architect threw him a last concerned glance before shutting the door behind her.

Arthur turned back towards Eames, who had stood up from his lounge chair and now looked at the point man with unrestrained curiosity.

“Darling, you have some explaining to do” he said with a small smile while Arthur purposefully walked up to him.

“Later” he growled before cupping the forger’s face in his hands and kissing him. He didn’t waste a second, diving in at the deep end, turning the kiss filthy and harsh directly. Eames was frozen under him for a moment but then wrapped his arms around Arthur, moaning when the point man deepened the kiss and pushed a knee between his legs, rubbing their groins together.

After a long while, Eames pulled away, but keeping his hands where they were currently holding on to Arthur’s waist.

“I’m gonna regret asking but…what?”

“You almost died on me because of a fucking sword wound. What is this, Game of Thrones?” Arthur’s exasperation would have been funny if Eames didn’t still feel the memory of the sword piercing through skin, flesh and muscle, bleeding out onto the ground, alone and afraid before Arthur came around. Said point man had snuck a hand underneath Eames’ shirt, pressing against where the wound had been but where in reality, there was only tattooed, smooth skin.

 “You could have easily dropped into Limbo and I would have never gotten the chance to kiss you.”

Eames frowned. “I’m…sorry?”

“Fuck, Eames. You were so close. I was scared, so scared. When you stopped breathing…” Arthur closed his eyes, breathing out shakily. Eames nuzzled his cheek against the other man’s, tightening his arms around him and kissing wherever he could reach.

“You kept me awake for a good while. I might not have made it without you” he finished softly, stroking his hands down Arthur’s back soothingly while the other man clung to him.

“Guess I’ll have to take better care of you from now on” he mumbled, the side of his mouth tiredly twitching into a small smile. Now that the shock was wearing down, Arthur felt the weight on his chest lighten.

Eames grinned, kissing Arthur on the lips quickly before meeting his eyes again. “You won’t hear me complain.”

“I think I could take way better care of you in my hotel room.”

Arthur’s words had the exact opposite of a desired effect. Eames’ face closed down just enough to be noticeable, and he pulled away, leaving Arthur’s sides cold.

“Arthur…”

The point man swallowed, looking anywhere but at the forger’s face. “If that’s not what you want, say it.”

“It’s…it’s not.”

Arthur clenched his jaw, forcing away the disappointment that rose in his throat. “Oh. I’m sorry I misunderstood. But…why’d you kiss me, then?”

Eames ran a hand across his face, sighing. Not only did he nearly die, he also had to have a very disappointing talk with the man he loved. It was promising to be the worst day of his life. “I don’t want this to be casual. Not with you. If we do this, we do it properly. If you can’t…”

Arthur stopped him quickly, gathering the forger’s hands in his own and lifting them up to his lips. “That’s exactly what I want, Eames. Fuck, I watched you die and held you the entire time. Do you think I do that for everybody?”

Eames’ lips twitched in amusement before the words really sank in and they stretched into an honest smile. “We’re on the same page, then.”

Arthur kissed Eames’ hands again, smoothing across his knuckles with his thumbs. “We are.”

“Well then, lead the way. I heard there’s a hotel room waiting.”


End file.
